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Oh, Party Gorilla! How we love you. Tuesday it was hanging with my buds, nothing to do.

So without further ado, we busted out the gorilla phone, waited for the gorilla tone, and called you

Your party mood came to bith, and you tore ass from the ends of the earth.

You landed on our lawn were we partied and partied until long after dawn.

Oh, Galactic Gorilla! If humans evolved from monkeys, then God evolved from you. A gallon of neutron star collected from dead galaxies afar would weigh as much as the atlantic ocean. (This part is true. Neutron stars are the result of an entire star collapsing to an area the size of Los Angeles, which makes it insanely dense.) And in one swift motion you drank not one, but two shots of that neutron star potion. Just to show us how big your balls are.

Oh, Party Gorilla! It's no lie, in a few billion years our little sun will die. And, like shrieking carbon sausages, every single one of us will fry.

But not you, Party Gorilla. While the world is burning, you'll be partying from afar donning a party hat, party pants, and magnificent crowbar, dealing out rage, celebration, and slaughter, partying far, far away on some distant, glowing quasar.